Star Light, Star Bright
by pellaz
Summary: Exploring the aftermath of the Deva Dario's death.


  
  
Star Light, Star Bright  
  
  
  
The light was slowly fading from the skies, the warm pinks and reds of sunset being replaced with the jet black of night. Glenn stood at his window, chin propped in one hand, staring out at the darkening sky.  
  
"Star light, star bright," he murmured, seeing the first beginnings of a twinkling of a star on the horizon. "First star that I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight...."  
  
A childish habit, but one he had not been able to dissuade himself from. His mother had taught the simple rhyme to him what seemed like centuries ago, reciting it to him in her gentle soprano as she held him to the window and ran her fingers through his baby-silk hair; "Whenever you have a wish, Glenn," she'd said, putting her face so close to his that he could hear the soft rythm of her breathing, "you just look out at the night sky, and if you see a star, the first star in the sky, all you have to do is say this rhyme, and your wish will come true."  
  
Glenn knew, through harsh experience, that this rhyme did not help. He had said it many years ago, when his father, Garai, had been on a mission to receive the dreaded sword Masamune. And his father had died--at the hands of his best friend, the one whom Glenn himself considered an uncle, Radius. He had said it again, while his mother lay in bed pining away for his father. And his mother had died. "Died of a broken heart," the doctor had said to her two children, shaking his head remorsefully. "Pined herself to death, poor woman."  
  
The rhyme did not work, but his mother had assured him it would. And though it had proved to be a lie, he could not help but have faith in her words.  
  
"I wish my brother to return home safely."  
  
Dario was the best of the Acacia Dragoons; Glenn knew that. Everyone admired and emulated him and said that he was every bit as talented as his great father, to whom had been bestowed the sword Einlanzer--as it was bestowed to Dario. This mission was no great feat for Dario, nor for his accompaniment, his best friend, Karsh. The only thing that plucked at Glenn's heartstrings was the fact that they were looking for the Masamune. It was just too similar to the death of their father. And his brother was all he had left. He had no parents, no other siblings, no benefactors; just his brother.  
  
There were multitudes of stars now; he had been here a while. Glenn smiled wistfully at the stars--they seemed to be twinkling at him, as if they had a secret--and moved away from the window, to his bed. It was getting just a bit too small; he was going through his growth spurt, and his training only seemed to make him grow more. He would never be a large man like Garai or Dario, but he was getting noticeably taller at last. Perhaps people would now stop thinking of him in terms of his familial connections.  
  
No, he doubted that.  
  
The fire had gone out long ago, so the room was a little cold. Glenn ignored it as he moved about the room, getting ready to go to sleep. He had just gotten into his nightclothes and was preparing to climb into bed when there came a knock at the door.  
  
Glenn froze, one hand on the bedcovers. *Could it be Dario? Was the mission so easily accomplished?* His heart grew lighter; he had worried for nothing. Hurriedly, he pulled on his pants, tying the strings with fumbling fingers, and lit a candle so that he could navigate his way through the dark house. The knock came again, a tad impatiently. Well, it *was* cold outside.  
  
"Hold on, I'm coming," he called, undoing the locks on the heavy door and swinging it open. He frowned. There was an Acacia Dragoon in front of him, too tall to be Dario even though he could not see past the armor. Maybe Dario was staying at Karsh's and had sent this man to tell Glenn. "Please, come in, sir," he said, stepping aside to let the dragoon squeeze past him. Glenn set the candle on a bookshelf and faced his visitor.  
  
"Is there something you require of me, sir?" he inquired politely.  
  
"You are Glenn, the brother of the Deva Dario?" the dragoon said. His voice was deep and slightly scratchy.   
  
Glenn nodded. "Yes, I am."  
  
The dragoon took off his helmet, revealing a square face peppered with stubble and weary, bloodshot eyes. "I am a member of Dario's squad, young sir," he said. "I am proud to be such. I am close to Dario, but I fear I have never met you. My name is Rohl."   
  
Glenn took the hand the man offered him and shook it, slightly confused. "Forgive my rudeness, sir," he said. "But it is late. What business have you here? A message from my brother? Shall he be home soon?"  
  
Rohl closed his eyes briefly. "No such glad tidings, young sir," he said somberly. "It pains me to deliver such news, but it must be done. Your brother, Deva Dario, was killed while on his mission to retrieve the sword Masamune."  
  
The news would truly register later, but for now, Glenn only felt a sick feeling in his stomach. He had to swallow several times before he could speak again. "I see," he said, proud that his voice was steady. *The son and younger brother of the greatest Devas is not all I am. I am my own person. I shall bear this with the stature befitting a dragoon.* "Thank you for delivering this news to me, sir. And his companion, Karsh? Is he dead as well?"  
  
"No, young sir. He is alive and well."  
  
"Has my brother's fiancee been informed?" Riddel would be deeply grieved, Glenn knew, but could not find it in himself to feel any semblance of pity for her. His own heart was cold.  
  
"The Deva Karsh is with her now, young sir, and has been since he arrived here, little less than an hour ago. She is being taken care of."  
  
"As are his burial arrangements, I presume."  
  
"They will be handled by General Viper, young sir," Rohl said.  
  
"Thank you, Sir Rohl. If it be at all possible, I would like to be informed of the date of the burial rites as soon as they be known."  
  
"Of course, young sir." Rohl saluted sharply, and, before Glenn could salute back, said, "Get some rest, young sir. All will be taken care of." Glenn managed to nod. Rohl gave him the barest of smiles and left.  
  
Glenn stared blankly at a spot on the wall. The candle was slowly burning itself out and the light was growing dimmer, but he didn't notice. Nor did he notice when his legs gave out and he slid to the floor. He still stared at the wall, and stayed that way well into the earliest hours of the morning.  
  
****  
  
There was no reddening of Riddel's eyes, and her voice was steady when she spoke. Karsh was proud of her; she was a strong woman. He loved her, but that didn't stop him from admitting that she and Dario had made the perfect pair. They had complemented each other, loved each other. And Riddel would remain strong through these hard times.  
  
"I do not want to be coddled, Karsh," she said. The tea he had fixed for her was clenched tightly in her hands. "I wish to know exactly how it happened, of course. Every detail."  
  
"I'll tell you everything, Riddel," Karsh said soothingly. "But not now. It's too hard now." For both him and her, he admitted to himself. Talking about Dario's final hours would be too hard right now, and he wasn't sure if he ever could, as a matter of fact--it would only slander both their names, but especially Dario's. Karsh couldn't bear that to happen.  
  
Riddel took a deep breath and raised a hand to wipe delicately at the corner of her eye. "Thank you, Karsh. You've been very kind."  
  
"You two are my best friends," Karsh said. *I will not get emotional, I will NOT get emotional! Aw, Karsh, ya poor fool, you're gonna start crying if you keep this up.* "I couldn't be anything but."  
  
She smiled very slightly. "I fear I will start crying if I think about him too long," she confessed. "Where is Father? We must talk about the burial...."  
  
"He'll be in soon, my lady," said the servant standing watch at the door.  
  
Riddel nodded. "Very soon, I hope. We must talk of the burial, and of the fact that there are now only three Devas...."  
  
"And there'll remain three Devas," Karsh said, a little too sharply. "No one can replace Dario."  
  
"I know," she said, and her eyes shimmered. "I know. But for the public's sake...."  
  
"Damn the public," Karsh said sourly.   
  
At that moment, General Viper strode in. Despite the fact that the sun was not even risen yet, he looked as stern and alert as ever, if a little grieved. "Riddel," he said instantly, going to her and taking her hands in his. "How are you, my darling daughter?"  
  
She gave his hands a reassuring squeeze. "I'll survive, Daddy," she said. "But for now, we must not talk of emotional matters. There are important things to be done."  
  
Viper nodded and sat down at his desk. "Yes, of course. He will be given a Deva's burial, of course, and a monument of his own--whether it is simple or extravagant will be up to you, Riddel, as will be the amount of access the public will have to it."  
  
"The burial must be as soon as possible," Riddel said.  
  
"Indeed." Viper took off one of his gloves and massaged his temple. "This is a tragedy," he murmured, then looked at Karsh. "Karsh, I'm glad you made it back safely."  
  
"Of course, my lord," Karsh replied. *But we all would have been much happier if Dario could have survived it 's well.... Damn that Masamune! Damn it to hell!* His fist clenched tightly, but he schooled his expression as best as possible.  
  
By the time they had gone through everything, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and light was just beginning to spill through the windows. Karsh thought it ironic that the sun continued to rise even now, unconcerned by the deaths of Dario and a thousand others. *The sun is the same, always,* he thought.  
  
Riddel was noticeably wearier. "I think that is all, then," she said.  
  
"Get some sleep, darling," Viper said kindly. "If there are more matters, they shall be taken care of with the utmost precision."  
  
Riddel nodded and turned to Karsh. "Walk with me outside, Karsh," she said. "I need some fresh air before I retire." They walked out into the gardens. The grass was still damp, the air slightly chill, and everything was bathed in the warm colors of the sunrise.  
  
"How beautiful the sunrise is today," Riddel murmured. "Perhaps more beautiful than any other I have seen."  
  
Karsh silently agreed. The sunrise did seem unnaturally beautiful.  
  
"And yet," Riddel continued, "I see everything as if through a long and dark tunnel without Dario here by our side." A tear ran down her face. "I shall miss him terribly. I *do* miss him terribly. We have always been together, the three of us... the two of us, Dario and I...."  
  
*And before there was you and Dario,* Karsh thought, *there was Dario and I.* But he didn't speak the bitter words out loud. They would only grieve her.   
  
"I can't even call myself his widow," Riddel said. "I feel as if I were his wife, but it is untrue. He told me to wait until he returned from this mission, then we would be married. Oh, Dario, if you could only have known that mission to be your last!"  
  
Surely there was something he should say--something that would ease her pain. But there was nothing, as there was nothing to ease his own pain. Karsh was silent, merely putting an arm around her and pulling her closer to him, and remained silent, even as she wept into his shoulder.  
  
She pulled away a few minutes later, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry," Riddel said. "I'm sorry, Karsh. This must be hard for you, as well."  
  
"Yes, Lady Riddel," Karsh answered truthfully. "But I won't begrudge you your grief, as I hope you shall not begrudge me mine."  
  
Riddel laughed a little and shook her head. "But that is the difference between you and me, Karsh," she said. "You shall grieve in private. I am selfish enough to force my grieving on another person."  
  
"You are never selfish, Lady Riddel," Karsh said. "You are the kindest, most selfless person I know. Dario loved that in you." *And so do I.*  
  
"Thank you for your kind words, Karsh." She patted his shoulder. "I shall be going to my rooms now. If I am needed for anything, please, wake me yourself." With that, she took her leave of him and left him alone in the gardens to contemplate the most beautiful sunrise he had ever seen.  
  
****  
  
A few hours later, a servant finally dragged him into the kitchen to eat. Even Orcha himself loomed over Karsh with that terrible scowl of his, daring him to refuse the food that the cook himself had fixed for him. Karsh looked at the food--which would have been appetizing, even delicious, at any other time, and seriously contemplated throwing up.  
  
"Really, Orcha," he said, hoping his voice didn't come out as quivery as his insides were. "I couldn't possibly eat right now."  
  
"You *will* eat," Orcha said threateningly, leveling a spoon at his forehead in utmost seriousness, "or I will shove it down your nose and make you eat it that way." Orcha wasn't afraid of anyone, not even a Deva--well, he was afraid of Marcy, but that was because she had Cat's Cradled him once.  
  
Seeing that he wasn't going to get out of this by himself, Karsh resigned himself to the inevitable, and raised a piece of bacon to his mouth.  
  
And was interrupted, blessedly, by a dragoon coming in through the door and saluting with a crisp, "Sir Karsh!"  
  
With a muted sigh of relief, Karsh put the spoon down and turned his attention to the dragoon. It was one he recognized, since he was from Dario's squad. Rohl, that was his name. "Yes?" he said.  
  
"My apologies for interrupting, sir," Rohl said, "but I've been looking for you all morning. I took it upon myself to tell the Deva's younger brother of his demise this morning, and--"  
  
His stomach lurched, and Karsh feared he really *would* throw up. "Damn!" he cursed, standing up so quickly the table rattled. "Glenn! I totally forgot about him!"  
  
Rohl nodded. "Yes, sir, I figured in the hubbub he might be neglected--"  
  
"I'm going to see him," Karsh said briskly. He turned to Orcha. "I'll eat when I get back," he said. "If I feel like it, that is." Orcha looked pissed, and Karsh barely bit down on a smirk before turning to Rohl and saying, "Come with me and tell me what happened while we go to Dario's house."  
  
****  
  
Since he was one of the Devas, Dario had the pleasure of not having to room in the barracks, and he had elected to stay in his father Garai's house while Karsh, Zoah, and Marcy all stayed in private rooms in the manor. His seventeen-year-old brother, Glenn, who was seven years younger than he, stayed with him as well, and was often alone, since Dario frequently went on missions. Glenn had just started training, Karsh remembered dimly. Growing up, he had been fond of the younger boy--he was almost like a little brother, and was every bit as mischievous as Karsh himself--but since Karsh had become a Deva, he hadn't really seen him much. He had seen him so little, as a matter of fact, that he had left Glenn alone for hours after his brother's death. Glenn was already an orphan, and now he had lost his brother as well. Karsh couldn't imagine how crushed the boy would be.  
  
"I'm so stupid," he said aloud as they walked along the path to Dario's house. "I can't believe I totally forgot about Glenn."  
  
"Not stupid, sir," Rohl said kindly. "The deva's death is a trying time for all."  
  
*But especially for his brother!* Karsh thought acidly, directed more at himself than at the other dragoon. "How did he react to the news?"  
  
"Quite well, sir. He took it quite calmly and seemed very concerned about the arrangement of the burial rites. I assured him everything would be taken care of."  
  
"Good," Karsh said absently. "He seemed fine, then?"  
  
"Yes, sir, but I doubt it had really sunk in at that time."  
  
That was probably true, though Karsh really didn't have any experience in this sort of thing. Both his parents were still alive. He had lost a sibling while very young, but he had been three or four, and could remember nothing of either the sibling or of the burial. And he had had a longer time than everyone else to accept the fact that Dario was truly dead.   
  
After all, he had killed Dario himself.  
  
*Don't think about that,* he instructed himself as Dario's house came into view. He turned to Rohl and said, "Thanks, Rohl. I'll make sure you're compensated for taking care of Glenn."  
  
"No need, sir," Rohl said calmly. "I served under the Deva, and I am glad to help in any way I can. I sense that the Deva's younger brother will be every bit as great as his father and brother, besides." He saluted sharply. Karsh nodded to him and opened the door to Dario's house.  
  
He looked around. The place was eerily still, everything in order, nothing out of place except for a candle on the bookshelf that had burned out long ago. The table in the middle of the room was cleared of dishes. On one of its chairs was Glenn's sword and helmet. Venturing further into the house, Karsh saw the kitchen, with a few dirty dishes in the sink and the old training dummy that Glenn had practiced on as a child when he wasn't at Karsh's with Dario. It brought back bittersweet memories of children's laughter, the scuffling of little feet and the thud of wooden sword on wooden sword, and Karsh quickly moved on to the hall. There were two doors, one open, one closed. The open one was Dario's; Karsh recognized his clothing and the favorite books he kept in there, and the picture of his mother and father on that old desk he'd insisted on keeping. Frowning, Karsh went into the room further. There was something beside that picture, and going closer, he saw a worn picture frame with shattered glass in and around it.   
  
Shaking his head, Karsh backed out of the room and knocked on Glenn's closed door. There was no response, not even when he tried a second and third time. "Glenn?" he called. "Glenn, it's Karsh. Are you in there?"  
  
There was nothing.  
  
Karsh tried the handle; it was unlocked. He opened the door and went inside as quietly as he could, closing it behind him, and felt his heart constrict at the sight that greeted him. Glenn sat at the window seat, knees drawn up to his chin and arms hugging his body, unmoving, perfectly still. He didn't acknowledge Karsh's presence.  
  
Karsh crept closer. Glenn was getting older, he noted, gaining some muscle and height; gone was the little boy Karsh had known, with wind-tousled hair, a dirt-smudged face and a devious smile, playing in the backyard of Karsh's house. He was dressed in nothing but a linen nightshirt and some baggy pants. There was a strip of old material tied around his right hand, spotted with dark red blood, and beside his feet was the picture from the shattered picture frame. Karsh picked it up and looked at it, and smiled wistfully. It was of him, Glenn, and Dario in days past; Glenn clinging to Dario's shoulders, that happy-go-lucky little smile on his face, and an equally happy smile on Dario's features. He had Karsh in a headlock. Gently, Karsh put the picture down and reached out to ruffle Glenn's hair.  
  
"Gonna have to cut that mop if you want to see your opponent in battle, kid," he said.  
  
Glenn's eyes slid over to look at him, but still he said nothing.  
  
"You've grown up a lot, haven't ya? Damn, where have I been? I guess we've just all been so damn busy lately....." Karsh's voice trailed off. There was no excuse. Even he and Dario had not seen each other as often in the last few months. "It's a damn shame. Especially with the wedding.... everyone was so busy. I kinda miss the old days, just the three of us, when our only enemy was that ridiculous straw person, and you barely came up to my waist and were always running around following your big brother." Karsh grinned wistfully. "Look at me, I sound like an old grandpa."  
  
He sat down on the window seat beside Glenn and looked out the window. There were two children shouting and running around.  
  
"They have no worries," Glenn said softly. "No troubles. Their parents are still alive. Their siblings are still alive. They don't have to take care of themselves."  
  
"Then they grow up," Karsh said.  
  
Glenn didn't look at him. "Has Lady Riddel made all the preparations?"  
  
"Yeah, she's taken care of everything. Handled it real well. The burial's in two days."  
  
"I see."  
  
They sat in silence for a while, and in that time, even the children left.  
  
"He died honorably?"  
  
Karsh glanced at him. Glenn was still staring out at nothing, his eyes distant. "Yeah," he lied. "He died like the best damn dragoon ever should."  
  
"I wished on a star," Glenn said, "that he would come back, and now he won't ever come back. As I did for my father. As I did for my mother. And now they are all dead. Did I do something wrong?" His face crumpled.  
  
Karsh reached out for him and pulled the smaller boy into his arms. "Naw," he said as Glenn shook with silent sobs against him. He rubbed Glenn's back. "You didn't do anything wrong. You're just a kid. You didn't do anything wrong. Your brother was always so damned proud of you, Glenn...."  
  
"He never told that to me," Glenn hiccuped.  
  
P"Baka. We can't have future dragoons going around with big heads, you know." He thumped Glenn's head. "You're already an arrogant little twit."  
  
Glenn sniffed against his shoulder but didn't pull away. Instead, he began talking aimlessly, voice slightly muffled, about his childhood memories of his brother, of the times he had been sick and his brother took care of him; of the times he had skinned his knee or twisted his ankle, and his brother had fixed it. He even spoke of how happy Dario was to be able to court Riddel, and how often he had spoken of the value he placed on Karsh's friendship. That last part surprised Karsh, and even brought a tear to his eye, but he didn't cry. He let Glenn talk himself out, rubbing his back and smoothing random locks of his hair until the young boy fell asleep in his arms. And even then, Karsh stayed, gazing out the window.  
  
****  
  
It was Riddel who came to the house hours later, just as the sky began darkening. She went into Glenn's bedroom and put her hand over her mouth as tears came to her eyes at what she saw. Karsh on the window seat, with Glenn half in his lap and Glenn's head on his chest, both of them sound asleep.  
  
She meant to leave immediately and leave the two of them to their private mourning--for they together had memories of Dario that she was not privy to--but she stepped on a piece of paper and Karsh's eyes snapped open, searching the room for the source of the sound and finding her. Riddel smiled at him and put her finger to her lips.  
  
"It's okay," Karsh said quietly, patting Glenn's back. He looked embarrassed, but not embarrassed enough to move. "He's dead to the world."  
  
At that reassurance, she moved closer, looking down at the boy who would have been her brother-in-law. "Is he all right?" she asked. Glenn's face was lax and peaceful in sleep, traces of the baby fat that would eventually be burned off more evident in his relaxation, his pale lips slightly parted to let his exhalations pass. Gently, Riddel ran her hand over his cheek.  
  
"Yeah, he's okay now," Karsh replied, smiling at her tenderness. "He cried himself out, poor kid."  
  
"He plans on becoming a dragoon, doesn't he?"  
  
"Yeah. He's got the talent," Karsh said, shrugging ever so slightly. "Just like his father and brother."  
  
"I don't want him to," Riddel whispered sadly.  
  
Karsh put his free hand over hers and smiled at her. "He'll be okay," he assured her. "He's the last of his family. Someone out there will take care of him."  
  
Riddel managed a wry smile. "I didn't know you were particularly religious, Karsh."  
  
"I ain't," he said with another shrug.  
  
"Oh, go back to sleep, Karsh. You're more intelligent when you're asleep."  
  
"Hey," Karsh protested, but she smiled and 'tsk'ed at him. He understood, and anyways, she hadn't needed to say it. He'd stay with Glenn.  
  
As she left the room, Karsh rested his head against the wall and gazed out the window. The sky was dark, but he could see, by squinting hard, the light of one twinkling star; the first star of the night. Stroking Glenn's hair, he murmured,   
  
"Star light, star bright...."  
  
  



End file.
